Blue Willow Read Online Free PDF Page A

Grandmother had gone out for a drive in her pony cart. Suddenly he remembered that the servants had the afternoon off. They had gone down to Atlanta to shop.
    Frantic, he raced to the service elevator, a huge, groaning monster like a jail cell on a pulley. He rode it upstairs and galloped through a maze of hallways to the gallery.
    Mrs. MacKenzie was crying on the chaise, her head thrown back, her hands clawing at the cushions. His knees wanted to collapse, but he made himself go to her. “I can’t find anybody! What should I do?”
    She panted. “You go outdoors and look for Mr. MacKenzie. I’ll be all right.”
    “No, I can’t leave you, I can’t.”
    She shuddered and dug her hands into the chaise, her body heaving. “Shit!” she said cheerfully. Artemas was not about to leave her side, held by love and the fear that something terrible would happen if he left.
    Mrs. MacKenzie relaxed as if collapsing inward, caught her breath, and grasped his quivering, outstretched handin both of hers. “This isn’t like you watching old Bossy have her calf. You go on now, you hear?”
    “I can help. Please, I’m not scared.” His teeth chattered, but he stepped closer. “There’s nobody else around. I’m not scared, I swear.”
    “Go on, I said. Mind me!”
    She groaned and pushed herself upward on the chaise, until she was propped on the backrest. Dust motes burst into the air as her elbows pumped the old cushions. Her knees drew up spasmodically, and her dress hem slid down to her thighs. Artemas wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. Her hose and garter belt and white panties were soaked in pinkish water, and her stomach bulged as if it would pop like a balloon.
    “Is the baby coming out?” he asked, frantically patting one of her knees.
    Mrs. MacKenzie gave a choked laugh. “Like a freight train through Atlanta!”
    “I’ll help! I helped with the hog! Please, please, tell me what to do!”
    “Me and the hog ought to be grateful, I guess. This is not for a little boy to see. But you’re no ordinary little boy, I figure.” Grunting and pushing herself upright, she wailed softly. “Stand up by my head, and don’t watch.”
    A little relieved at that idea, he moved close to her and turned his head toward the gallery of his ancestors. A dozen Colebrook men and women watched from tall portraits in gilt frames. He tried to concentrate on them. MacKenzie and Colebrook, sharing again, part of the circle, chasing Gabriel back to heaven …
    The raw sound of ripping cloth made him jump. He turned and watched Mrs. MacKenzie tear her panties from between her legs. The heat of embarrassment seared his face for a second, then faded in a rush of curiosity.
    “It looks just like Bossy’s place, but smaller,” he said in awe.
    Mrs. MacKenzie chortled at his comment, then moaned and cried out “Drew!” as if her husband were there. Artemas’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. She struggledto reach over her huge belly again, gasping and sweating, her face unrecognizable with lines of pain.
    “Come here, Artie,” she commanded. “You’ve gotta make sure the baby doesn’t slide off the couch.”
    The very idea of a baby bouncing onto the floor made him lurch around to the end of the chaise, his hands splayed out in readiness. His legs nearly collapsed when he saw the gory opening between Mrs. MacKenzie’s legs fill with the dome of the baby’s head. Sheer willpower pushed him forward as Mrs. MacKenzie dug her thick black shoes into the chaise and threw her head back. In one convulsive shove she slid the baby into his quivering hands.
    Warm. She was warm, soft, and covered in sticky blood. A fibrous cord led from her navel back inside Mrs. MacKenzie. Life pulsed through her. Holding her was like holding a beating heart, his heart, because it expanded with sheer wonder at the sight of her. Her eyes were squinted shut. Her arms and legs quivered and seemed to reach toward him. She had a funny, puckered frown on